Dek Unu Magazine Renato Rampolla May 2021

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Unu Magazine

May 2021

Introspection
ato Rampolla

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© Dek Unu Arts, 2021
Unless noted - Images: © Renato Rampolla

Eleven

This is Dek Unu Magazine. In Esperanto, dek unu means "eleven." Eleven
images from a single artist. Eleven artists in eleven solo issues each year.

Dek Unu publishes the work of a new photoartist in each issue. The artist's work
and words are featured alone and in individual focus as the sole purpose for
each issue of the magazine. Unlike other arts and letters magazines which
might look for work from a variety of artists to support an editorial staff's theme,
at Dek Unu, theme and imagery are always each artist's own.

This Month

Since February 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic has separated photographers like
Renato Rampolla from essential human contact. Empty boulevards are interesting.
at first, for their novelty; but documentary photography needs its people more than it
needs scenes of blacktop and fire escapes. And portraits of nothing but eyes above
an N95 mask do not make very compelling art, either. In the UK, the National
Portrait Gallery, like many other venues that have closed due to the plague, has
launched a "community project,” encouraging photographers of all abilities to submit
portraits that capture “the spirit, mood, hopes, fears. and feelings of the nation as we
continue to deal with the Coronavirus outbreak." Renato Rampolla has done exactly
that.

Using the lockdown and its enforced solitude, he has re-examined work from his
own archive of portraits of the homeless, people who were already quite vulnerable,
before Covid made life in the street even worse. Diving into his catalog, Rampolla
combines and re-shapes past work to draw new emotional meaning from the
Originals... and, in the process, he creates new portraits born of a deep look at
himself, his art, and the raw emotion that it touches. Introspection.

Unlike some collage art, in which a complication of images is meant to substitute for
solid image-making in any one of the component images, Rampolla's catalog shows
extraordinary command of the camera and the computer. Like other extraordinary
artists, his command of the craft is married to an understanding of the synergy
between image and viewer and his untitled images speak volumes to those who are
ready to hear.

Introspection captures human emotion as an image. | leave most of the pieces in this series
untitled because it is left up to the viewer to bring personal experiences to each image.

“We seldom realize, for example, that our most private thoughts and emotions are not
actually our own.

For we think in terms of languages and images which we did not invent, but which were

given to us by our society.”
-Alan Watts

“There is no reason to delve into the literary or discursive aspects of a picture.

Loneliness, the impossibility of inter-human contact, the drive for inward sustenance,
the hunger for an all-consuming faith, are part of a common heritage.

Therefore all art, in whatever form, deals with them. But the how is the thing.”

-Frank Rampolla, (1931-1971)

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“There is no reason to delve into the literary or discursive aspects of a picture.

Loneliness, the impossibility of inter-human contact, the drive for inward sustenance,
the hunger for an all-consuming faith, are part of a common heritage.

Therefore all art, in whatever form, deals with them. But the how Is the thing.”

-Frank Rampolla, (1931-1971)

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Mother and Child, 2020

As the son of the artist, Frank Rampolla (1931-1971), I’ve been highly influenced by my
father’s artwork. His paintings are larger than life, figurative expressionist style tackling
subjects such as social injustice, war, and humanity. However, my mother was equally
influential in my artwork, as she was love in action to those in need. She took on the
childrearing as my father died when | was eleven.

ohe made a difference in her community, especially counseling women, through the Centre
For Women, the Child Abuse Council, and the Florida Mental Health Association. She also
founded Project Eve at Hillsborough Community College. My mother passed in 2016.

As with most mothers, she was a symbol of unconditional love, strength, and gratitude even
in adversity. The bond between mother and child is beautiful, while not always joyful in every
moment, it is forever. Children instinctively know that they are safe from all dangers, and
loved unconditionally, in their mothers’ arms.

This piece is hanging in the Museum of Art in Maitland as part of a group show titled, Love
and Compassion: Images of Mother and Child.

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Roofing Randy, 2020

My series, Dignity, is composed of portraits of people | meet on the street. This is an important
series because many of the people | meet are homeless. By using close-up framing and
sharp focus, | hope to illuminate their humanity and not their circumstance.

My book, Dignity No Matter What: The Light Within shows homelessness up close and
personal along with their stories.

We just finished a solo exhibition at the Museum of Art in Deland, Florida, titled, Dignity: The
Light Within, which was made up of 25 of my large-format, soulful portraits of people who live
outdoors. | am currently working on more images to expand this show.

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‘If | could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.” -Edward Hopper

| create late into the evenings, in darkness, listening to loud rhythm and blues. | remember
my father painting in the dark studio with one light bulb hanging over his canvas, listening to
Mahler or Beethoven playing so loudly the sound from the speakers was totally distorted.

He passed away when | was eleven so | never had the opportunity to speak with him
man-to-man. This process is sort of a connection with him, | suppose.

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| never know what is going to happen until it happens. | may have a preconceived idea when
Starting, but the work often leads me to something else deep inside me. Being in the moment
as | make marks and combine layers is as much a cathartic process as it is creative.

SO many things in our lives are constructs and labels. These labels and constructs help us
navigate but do little to help us see.

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Roofing Randy II, 2020
| met Roofing Randy through a mutual friend.

We drove about 45 minutes south of town onto a dirt road off of the interstate. After walking a
crooked path of matted grass, we spotted Roofing Randy's home. A blue tent with three plastic
lawn chairs and a fire pit, conveniently next to a small pond. There were colorful blankets
draped across the backs of the chairs and on the ground. Memories of Henry David Thoreau’s
Walden Pond came to mind. It’s beautiful here and he doesn't want to leave. This has been his
home for three years and he likes it here. This is his home.

Roofing Randy had sort of a scholarly way about him. Quiet, he seemed to calculate his words

before he spoke. | asked him what he did before he retired and he said, “These hands had kept
me alive for over sixty years — carpentry, plumbing, electric, and mostly roofing.” Then he was

quiet again as he took a deep breath. His health was failing and he knew tt.

A few months after | made his portrait, Roofing Randy, who served his country from 1973-1977,
passed away. Although | made several wonderful portraits of Roofing Randy, | wanted to do
something more. Hence, the two images of him in this series.

When | first met Ricardo, he was living in his van. He had developed a chronic illness that
prevented him from maintaining the responsibilities of a full-time job.

We made some portraits using his white van as a backdrop and they turned out great. He
looked very distinguished and you would never have known that that white background was his
van, much less his home for the past 14 months.

A few days later, | gave him a couple of prints. He was impressed with how he looked. In fact,
he said he didn't see himself that way at all — so distinguished.

| ran into him again a couple of months later and he was living in a boarding house and working
part-time.

You are most recently known for your intimate street portraits,
your "Dignity" series. What happened?

The Introspection series started when the COVID lockdowns began. |
was experiencing frustration, stress, and a lack of connection. In
addition, | was displaced from my home due to water damage and
lived in a rental house for several months while repairs were made. |.
like many others during this time, was dealing with a lot of change
and uncertainty. The streets were empty and | needed an outlet to
express myself. This series allowed me to create in solitude where |
was used to connecting face to face with strangers on the street. This
project required that | quickly teach myself how to use Photoshop,
something | had wanted to learn more about but had put off.

Renato Rampolla

Introspection captures human emotion as an image: love, joy, pride,
loneliness, anger, or belief in something bigger than ourselves.
There’s a grit to the work. Urban graffiti, torn posters, backlit win-
dows, walls, mark-making, anything with color and or texture is my
form of abstract expression as a street photographer. | “paint” these
layers over portraits or other figures I've captured while roaming

the streets. The process is a composite of my figurative street
portraits combined with layers of more abstract street
photography. The experience is like a performance on a two-
dimensional surface. Flash-perceptions of reality interact with raw
emotions.

After the deep monochrome of Dignity, this project is a real
explosion of color.

The color palette is often primary colors: red, blue, yellow.
Although it is unintentional in the moment of creation, perhaps it
can be said there’s a distillation to primary emotions and to our
interconnectedness to one another. This kind of image-making is
not an intellectual process. but, rather, it is an intuitive expression
of emotion. | leave most of my /ntrospection series untitled
because it is left up to the viewers to bring their own emotional
experiences to each image. Both /ntrospection and Dignity are
about humanity, the human condition. In both series, | want the
viewer to feel each subject's presence.

This is a great example of an artist's “process” and the
creative state of mind. Where do your ideas come from?

My ideas come from the osmosis of past experiences. | was the
child of an artist. My father was a New York artist who graduated
from Art Student League and Cooper Union in NYC and Boston
University. He taught at Ringling College of Art and Design in
Sarasota. My experiences from youth placed me around great art
and artists that have distinctively defined my work. This way of
life was normal for me so it’s hard to separate it.

Inspiration comes from my travels, architecture, music, and, of
course, a continual study of the Masters. My library collection of
photography and art books is constantly expanding. I’ve been
responsible for the estate of my father’s works for over a decade
which allowed me access to museums and curators.

Did you get explicit art instruction from your father?

My father taught me how to make linocuts, basic elements of
composition and chiaroscuro, lost wax sculpture, and photography.
We even made a bronze chess set together.

His studio at Ringling was in an old bus garage under one of the
dorms. There was a small fridge in the studio: inside were items for
his drawing class such as a large fish or cow's head. The assign-
ment was for his students to draw the carcass in varying stages of
decay. He had a cabal of students who still tell me how much he
influenced them and their work. | was fascinated by the studio as a
young boy. | was interested in all of it. | watched while he painted in
the studio. He’d draw things out so quickly. He would say that if a
man jumped off a seven-story building, you should be able to draw
him before he hit the ground.

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With Dad in his studio, 1967

He liked to paint in the dark under one light. | suppose it ended up
having more contrast and boldness in the colors as a result. | also
like to work in the dark; it creates a state of mind in which all you can
see is the canvas. While working, he played loud Mahler, Beethoven.
or Mozart. | play loud rhythm and blues when | work.

You credit your mother with teaching you several important
lessons as well.

My father died when | was eleven years old. There was no
insurance money and he did not leave a will. Even his car was in
probate for over a year. My mother, who at the time had a high
school education and no job, had to work for minimum wage at
K-Mart. With my mother’s influence, | grew up thinking, "You
must be strong to survive." She was. She was very strong. We all
need to work hard regardless of our circumstances. She found a
way to go to school in order to be better able to take care of us.
She went on to get her master's degree and became a counselor
to those with mental health issues.

| remember we once debated the topic of homelessness. She
had such compassion. | was 19 or 20 and | didn’t understand this
empathy, especially considering what we had been through. Her
response was, “You just don’t know what somebody else has
been through, so you can't judge.” We agreed to disagree and
didn't discuss it again. | didn't get it then, her philosophy of
empathy, but | get it now.

You started your own college career, though, as a
scholarship guitar major.

My dad got me my first record player when | was quite young.
After he passed, | poured myself into music. The music | listened
to featured the guitar as the pre-eminent instrument - Hendrix,
John McLaughlin, Santana - but my favorite player was Jeff Beck.
He doesn't just play regurgitated riffs: he is truly creative. | played
in bands and taught guitar lessons to get through school, but my
academic training was leading me to be a band director or an
educator. | didn't want to go that route. | wanted to play my art.

| still play my guitar a lot. Music and the visual arts have similar
elements: melody, rhythm, texture. The mediums deal with the
same issues: harmony and discord, tension and release,
movement and resolution, ebb and flow. There is an acronym

used in photography, "DIE" — Design, Information, and Emotion —
to describe what every good photograph contains. The same acro-
nym works equally well in music.

First camera? Analog? Digital?

My dad had done some street photography in the 1950s in NYC, and
he bought me my first camera when | was 6 years old because | had
a strong desire to learn. It was a plastic camera that melted on the
metal dashboard of his car while we were in downtown Sarasota see-
ing a movie. Acouple of years later, my father got me another cam-
era. It was a Petri Range Finder. | brought it with me everywhere.

After my father passed away, | began to use his Nikkormat. I'd take
pictures of my dogs and nature along the river. |’d then take pictures
of strangers in Ybor City, an interesting, multi-ethnic part of Tampa.
When | was a teenager, my friend had a darkroom where we'd
develop our film and print pictures. Eventually, a few years later, |
built my own darkroom in my first house. These days, it's a Sony
A/r3 with a wide-angle lens, Lightroom, and Photoshop.

Your BA is in Social and Behavioral Sciences. How does that
training connect to your photography?

| had an amazing education at the University of South Florida. One
particular instructor, Dr. James Swanson, my Historiography teacher,
helped me understand the notion of “Quality.” He was very much a
Romantic, in the classical sense. He introduced me to the book,
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, where | learned to
understand the meaning of quality, labels, and constructs.

As it applies to my photography, | came to understand that, at the
initial point of contact with new work, there is an instant, a moment
before the cultural labels, constructs, and intellectual preconceptions
kick in, when quality exists if the work is good and the viewer Is
astute. Labels and constructs help us navigate but do little to help
us see. When we turn off the labels and constructs that society
places in our minds and see things for the shapes, colors, and
textures that they are, we are truly seeing.

Are there other mentors/influences that deserve a shout-out?

Influences include Ernst Haas, Alex Webb, and Saul Leiter.

An early mentor in photography, Suzanne Camp Crosby, singled
out the image below from Ybor City for praise, part of a class
assignment called "Evidence of Man." She was great, always
encouraging, and able to make you feel better than you were.

Evidence of Man, 1980, Renato Rampolla

Another mentor was the late Jerry Meatyard, the brother of the
famous photographer, Eugene Meatyard. Even though | was a
music major, | took directed studies, composition, and sculpture
classes with Jerry. He had a way of looking at my sculptures and
knowing not only what they needed, but how to express it verbal-
ly so | could make the changes. He pointed out that my sculp-
tures were stiff. His instruction to me would have been the same
as my father’s, “The figures are too stiff. Elongate the figures.
Don't spend so much time on the details that you forget the big
picture.” The impact of his classes hasn't left me to this day.

Who sees your new work first? Do you have a trusted editor?

Perhaps | should, but | don’t. The subscribers to my website tend to
get first viewings of my works (besides my wife). | tend to release
work often. | work quickly and don’t second guess much.

Anybody from the past whom you remember not so fondly?
Aliases are ok here!

Well... In 1980, taking photographs for the college newspaper, |
went to Curtis Hixon Hall in Tampa on assignment to get a photo of
Bob Hope, who was performing there that night. With my ticket for
the nosebleed seats and my 105mm lens, | wasn’t nearly close
enough to get the job done in the huge convention center. After
asking around, | found out that Mr. Hope was flying out directly after
the show, so | drove straight to the airport and waited. Finally, his
entourage arrived. Everyone was dressed in casual business suits
and | wore ragged jeans, long hair, and a beard. | hid behind my
Nikkormat and pretended | was shooting, thinking they wouldn't see
me. | felt safe behind the camera. As Mr. Hope came closer, |
started actually taking pictures. He smiled and | smiled and | kept
shooting.

Meeting Bob Hope, 1980, Renato Rampolla

He sat down to answer questions and | took a few more shots.
Mostly, the group asked political questions which were over my
head at the time due to my lack of interest in politics back then.
There was a pause in the questions and Mr. Hope looked me
square in the eyes and said, “How about you young man. Do you
have any questions for me?” Assignment accomplished! So far...
SO good.

| developed and printed the shots and turned them in. My
journalism teacher loved my prints of Mr. Hope. In fact, she
insisted that | give her the negatives. Having recently taken a
photography course, with Suzanne Camp Crosby, | was taught
never to give up my negatives.

| didn't and she gave me a "C" because of that.

Describe a perfect workday? Up early? Midnight oil? Do
you ever get "blocked?" How do you start the motor again?

Perfect conditions for shooting:
Waking up at 7:00 AM in a new city I've traveled to.
Walking without a destination with my camera in hand
until about 9 PM or so.
Usually my wife pulls me in.

Perfect workday for image making:
As soon as the sun sets, | implement ideas in the
dark, listening to loud music.

Blocks?
Yes, creative blocks happen on occasion, but |
restore creative impulses quickly by going on a walk
with my camera.

Are you drawn to any photo style or approach? Anything
that turns you off?

I'd rather not pick on any forms of art or come across as negative,
but, | would say I'm turned off by photographs that are not

respectful of the homeless, such as them sleeping on a park bench,
particularly when the photos are taken without their knowledge or
permission. Beyond that, | just steer away from art forms that don't
take any type of discipline to achieve.

How do you measure your success as an artist? Day-to-day?
Big achievements? Other “attaboys?”

Success as an artist to me is measured by the next image | make
being better than the last.

I've been fortunate enough to have some great publicity, access to a
few grants and some museum exhibits. I’m interested in continuing
museum exhibits across the US and internationally. I'd like to bring
further awareness to homelessness and help others.

What’s next? A show, another book, article, travel, collaborative
project? Anything we can help to publicize?

Net proceeds of the sales of my book, Dignity No Matter What: The
Light Within, are donated to Blanket Tampa Bay, a charity that works
with the homeless by providing everyday needs with compassion and
dignity. (www.blankettampabay_org) There are only a few copies of my
book left (https:/Awww.renatorampolla.com/book/’).

| am making my work available for purchase to interested collectors
and extending my reach to show the work with museums. The
Museum of Art—Deland just acquired one of my portraits, "Michael,
2020" (24” x 24”). | am happy about that because they are great
people with an amazing collection, and | am proud to be a part of it.
I’m hoping to begin traveling again in the next month and make a lot
more work. In a short time, I'll be making limited edition prints for
museums and collectors, using new paper types I've found that show
my work at its finest.

Finally, on the creative side of things, | have been making painted
triptychs. | have a couple on my website at the end of my /ntrospection
series now. These might eventually take on a life of their own and
become their own series.

Links and Resources

Website: https://www.renatorampolla.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/renatorampolla/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RenatoRampolla
E-mail: RenatoRampolla at gmail dot com

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